


Steve's Shadow

by LeeMorrigan



Series: Shape of Shadows [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Banner and Strange are mentioned, Clint had protoges, Clint is mentioned a few times, Clint saved more than Nat, F/M, Feels, Mutant Character, Natasha sees everything, Natasha watches out for everyone, Past relationships renewed, Romantic Tension, Sam is mentioned, Someone needs to love Steve, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve's beard, Steve's gold heart, T'challa is mentioned, Team Cap - Freeform, Thor and Loki are mentioned, Wakanda is mentioned, Wanda is mentioned - Freeform, golden retriever Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeMorrigan/pseuds/LeeMorrigan
Summary: A call from an old friend brings Steve away from Wakanda. Natasha follows because someone's gotta look after the Captain. The friend comes to warn Steve about things even the King of Wakanda and the former Black Widow might not have heard about yet. While talking, Steve and this friend end up revealing more than intel about Thunderbolt Ross and Thor.





	Steve's Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen INFINITY WAR or BLACK PANTHER, so this is entirely based from seeing AVENGERS 1&2 plus the CAPTAIN AMERICA movies and THOR movies.  
> Natasha and Steve share a hotel room, seperate beds - there is no swearing (but jokes about it with Steve), sex, or anything violent. There are references to horror films and events from the MARVEL films.  
> Team Cap, but no Tony bashing. This was just an idea that hit me while I was emptying the dish washer and I simply had to write it. Hope you all enjoy!

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Steve reached, stuffing a dingy washcloth in the bottom of the sink. It wouldn’t stop the leak, it would only allow him some peace. At least, as much peace as one could get in a small hotel room, on the rough side of town, in a part of the world no Americans went to unless they were internationally wanted. Steve let out a long breath.

“We should have stayed in Wakanda.”

Steve didn’t even glance at Natasha, from where he was laid out on his bed, feet still on the floor and arms crossed over his chest.

“You were welcome to stay. You didn’t have to come with me.”

He could almost hear the smirk.

“And leave you to take a meeting alone, how long have you known me Rogers?”

Steve had to admit, she was right. There was no way she would have let he, Sam, Wanda, Clint, or Scott to do a meeting alone. Clint, more so she could joke and tease with him, where as the rest of them she worried about their lack of spy-credentials and experience. Understandable.

“I am meeting her in twenty minutes. It’ll be fine.”

Natasha let out an unimpressed huff, before she flopped backwards into the bed, staring at the ceiling for a long moment. Steve waited.

“I don’t like it.”

Steve sat up, looking around to figure out where he dropped his jacket and room key.

“I’ll be fine, Nat.”

She gave him a Look as he shrugged into the off-brand Carhart jacket, pulling a faded cap over his now-long hair, and grabbed his room key. The aim was to look like he might have been a truck driver or one of the guys coming off a late shift at the docks nearby. He was not to look to look like Captain America. He turned so Nat could give him a once-over from her bed.

“You should have had the beard back when we were Avengers. It does good things for your face.”

“Do I look all right? Not like I’m gonna attrack too much attention?”

Nat smiled ruefully at him. It was so cute, she thought almost mockingly, how he thought he didn’t draw too much attention just cause he grew a little hair and sported a beard. He still had shoulders like a linebacker and a sweet, kind manner that totally went against the way he appeared able to break someone in half. Of course he drew more than a fair share of stares from most women and a few men.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Steve tipped his forehead towards her, giving her reprimanding look. It didn’t work on her, she just grinned up at him.

“You got this one, slugger.”, she tried.

“All right, all right. Goodnight.”

“I won’t wait up!”, she called as he reached for the door handle, “Just don’t pick up any strangers or take their candy.”

She heard the long-suffering sigh as she flopped back into the bed, lamenting that she hadn’t picked a place that at least had cable. Or a library nearby. She missed her books, at her various apartments and the room designated ‘Auntie Nat’s room’ at the Barton residence.

Sitting up, Nat decided she was going to go grab something to eat. She was hungry and, no doubt, Steve had gone even longer without eating than she had. He was more nervous than he allowed anyone to see. He also was not a big fan of the local cuisine but beggars could hardly be choosers. Perhaps nearer to the air port there would be a McDonalds or a KFC. At this hour it would be end of shift food, but again- beggars and choosers.

Not that she would admit it, but Nat was worried about far more than strangers, Steve being kidnapped, or a double-cross. What she was worried about was what condition he might find his friend, and their former teammate, to be in. He always wanted to save every puppy in the pound. Just like Clint. That's why they both needed her around, to keep those golden hearts from getting their owners in over the heads and dead.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Steve went into the small diner slash truck-stop, as instructed. It was freezing cold outside and even with his metabolism and layers, he had felt it. Even his bones felt cold. Ever since he woke up in the 21st century, he had developed a strong aversion to being cold for prolonged periods.

He was supposed to wait there, order a drink, and wait. His contact promised to be showing up once they knew Steve was alone. The tired waitress shuffled over on obviously sore feet. With only two other customers, she didn’t appear to bother with a pen or pad.

She asked Steve’s order in French, heavily accented and carrying the smell of too many cigarettes. Steve told her that he just wanted a black coffee. She nodded, then walked off to get it. A moment later, an off-white mug sat in front of him with steaming coffee perfuming the air.

Steve sipped the coffee. It tasted a bit like some of the stuff he had during the War, rather than what he often got at the Tower or in Wakanda. It almost tasted like the stuff Peggy had made for him, the one and only time he ever knew her to make coffee. He had been freezing cold after coming back from a mission with Dum Dum. Dum Dum had gone straight to bed, curled up in ten blankets and having taken a long drink of whiskey from a flask before he went right to sleep. Steve had been made to brief some brass first, then he was allowed to go to get some rest.

Peggy found him a few minutes after the debriefing, shivering as he tried to shave in the small mirror pinned to the center pole of the tent he and the Commandos had been sharing. The next thing he had known, Peggy had been beside him, shoving a piping hot mug into his hands. It had helped warm his hands and his insides, so he could shave safely.

Looking away from the coffee mug and casting a glance towards the shadows across the street, Steve almost missed it. A shadow moved. Not the way they did when Natasha or Clint was hiding in one. More the way they did in nightmares or the horror films Sam and Tony favored. Like the shadow was liquid, curling over surfaces and leaking around corners.

The shadows dissipated, shifted, grew, moved, then repeated the pattern. Steve knew those shadows. He smiled. Turning to look back at his coffee, he let out a small breath. He hadn’t expected the call that asked him to come to Canada and get a drink at what Nat described as the smallest _crap_ -hole in Canada’s frozen tundra. She had taken great pleasure in emphasizing how she hadn’t cussed.

The door opened, bringing a burst cold air through the diner. Steve didn’t bother to look up, already knowing who it was. She might have been able to bend light and dark, tricking the eyes everywhere she went, but she could not disguise the slight scent of lilac and leather that always made him think of her.

Bronach Quinn, former SHIELD covert agent, classification: enhanced, trained in field medicine and combat, skilled with a knife, expert marksman, former protégé of Clint Barton, and friend. Nock, as Clint had introduced her to the team, still looked much the same as she had three years ago when Steve first met her. Shortly after Ultron, she had come out of a deep-cover assignment and crashed on Clint’s sofa in his room at the Tower. Steve had popped in to make sure Clint was awake, for a sparring session, yet he found a woman laying on the floor. When Steve accidentally woke her, she had shot up, apologizing like a kid caught sneaking out. They had been friends ever since.

She smiled at him, striding up with no effort not to attract attention. 5’10 before you took her high heeled boots into account, wearing a black motorcycle jacket, black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a paper-thin bright blue scarf with scatterings of silver threads. You couldn’t miss her in the badly lit, dreary diner. Steve wasn’t sure you could ever miss her, once she turned off her super-powers.

The waitress returned, looking a bit more put-out at Nock than she had at Steve, as she asked Nock’s order. Nock glanced over at Steve, at a total loss. Steve ordered for her, tea if they had it- cola if they didn’t. She nodded at the waitress before the woman left for the kitchen.

“All these years and you still never picked up French?”, Steve teased.

“Not everybody can be a polyglot, Brooklyn.”

He smiled. She always called him that when she was in a teasing mood. Not for the first time, Steve was struck with a sort of homesickness for the days when his teammate’s adopted siblings and some aliens were the only things his team had to worry about. Then, after a fight against evil-doers, they could go for shawarma. Or just coffee and cold sandwiches in the Tower kitchen.

The waitress dropped off a can of sofa without any care for the carbination, before walking off to the kitchens again. Steve shook his head. Nock shook her head and pulled the drink closer.

“How’s Natasha?”

Steve smiled as Nock added, “I’m sure she came with you. No way she lets you do this meeting alone.”

“Well, if she’d known I was meeting you, she might have.”

“She has figured it out by now. Who else would ask you two to come up here?”

Steve couldn’t argue with that logic. Not that he wanted to. Natasha would have followed him if it had been anyone else. Except maybe if it had been Thor, come back from Asgard. Or Erik Selvig, although Erik would have no reason to ask for a meeting with Steve.

“True. She’s good. She was bored to tears at the hotel when I left. She probably went out to hunt and gather, and she’ll have a vending machine worth of loot when I get back.”

“Well, at least she’s good at sharing.”

The earned a chuckle. Then they were quiet for a moment. Steve itched for his sketch pad and a pencil. Nock never sat still long enough for him to ever get a proper sketch, and the one time he had come close, she had caused the shadows to swallow up the light so he could not see well enough to sketch. Granted, she had been in a pretty dark mood that afternoon.

She looked so unchanged, except for the tired circles below her dark eyes. A dark hazel, looking like chocolate in the diner’s light. Her smile also seemed a bit tired, but still warm.

“Why did you call me, Nock?”

“Guy I’m working for, well at least this week, he was bragging about how Thunderbolt Ross supposedly has a bead on Banner. I know Banner wasn’t involved in that mess over the Accords, he was off on some wild hair and Thor was back in Asgard, and I was off chasing a lead for Fury, but otherwise everyone was local and accounted for. So I’ve been listening for anything about him and Thor. Seems Ross believes Banner is in Norway.”

“Norway?”

She nodded.

“Also, a contact of mine says Thor and Loki were here. But only for about half an hour, on the street where some old folks home was being torn down in Europe. Seems Loki just disappeared and Thor went to see a man named Dr.Strange. Some girls shared selfies they took with Thor, and Loki is in the background of one.”

Steve nodded. He knew who that was, courtesy of T’Challa and Natasha. He swore those two knew everyone, by face or reputation at least, if not personally. If Thor met with the wizard, then something big must have been on the horizon.

“I couldn’t tell that Wakandian king you’ve buddied up to, but I could get a message to you, so I figured I’d tell you, you could tell Nat and King T’Challa, then anyone else who needs to know.”

“Good call.”

“I’m glad Natasha came with you. I’d have worried about you getting home, otherwise.”

That caused Steve to almost scoff. Instead, he leaned a little further forward, his coffee mostly forgotten as he looked into it. He wasn’t seeing it.

“What?”

“Home. Wakanda is great. Beautiful, actually. It’s not home.”

Nock rubbed her temple, an old habit she only gave into when in the company of friends. It meant she was trying to back-track her way through a conversation. One laden with landmines.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Steve. I should have been.”

Reaching, Steve took one of her hands in his. Warm and soft, not the kind of hand most would think could kill a grown man with little effort. Hands that had killed at least 42 men, according to her file when he first met her. And more since then.

“Bronach, don’t. You were handling something for Fury and you were a world away. You didn’t know. You couldn’t have. And when you did find out, you reached out to check on us. And you helped me get Clint back to his family. I couldn’t have asked for more. Shouldn’t have asked for that.”

She gave his hand a returning squeeze, offering a small smile and a hopeful look. Steve could use some hope. Grim determination had been all he was running on lately.

“Should’a could’a would’a.”

He nodded.

“How’s Sam? And Wanda?”

“He’s been flirting shamelessly with one of T’Challa’s bodyguards. I’ve tried to warn him, he just tells me ‘but what a way to go’. He might be worse than Bucky back before he joined the Army. Wanda has been working with someone T’Challa introduced her to, trying to get a better handle on her powers.”

She didn’t need to ask. He knew what question laid unspoken.

“Bucky’s still under. He was too afraid he would hurt someone so he… T’Challa has the best guys working for him and they all say Bucky will be fine, physically. They even took measurements to try to design a new, better arm for him.”

“Just please tell me it won’t have the sign of Communist Russia on it?”

Steve nodded.

“I’ve mostly heard them talk about keeping it plain, although before he went under, he joked that he could get stripes.”

Bronach offered him a smile, a small laugh escaping.

“At least he felt up to joking. That’s gotta mean something good, I’m sure of it.”

“You always were an optimist. Always looking on the bright side.”

“Fine optimist I’d be if I didn’t. Steve?”

He looked up at her face, and for the first time, noticed they were still holding hands overtop the table. Her hands looked so pale compared to his, especially since he had been spending so much time in Africa while she had been sticking to Canada.

“You’ll get him back. Might take a while, but it’ll happen. See if it doesn’t.”

He couldn’t help it, her words gave him hope. Hope he shouldn’t dare to have. Hope that someday, his friends wouldn’t be on opposite sides of a line in the sand and his best, oldest friend wouldn’t be in deep-freeze with a brain he didn’t trust and missing an arm.

Steve felt Bronach’s fingers tighten slightly around his. Looking back up, he saw that she had her telepathic look. She wasn’t actually telepathic, although Clint swore sometimes she gave Nat a run for her money and had Clint wondering if she might have learned to read people in a carnival or something. He was a big believer in how sharp a skill could become, traveling in the circus.

“Thank you.”

She shook her head.

“Steve, aside from Clint, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t care what is going on, where you are, or if someone is threatening to end the world with a very workable plan to do so. I’m not abandoning you. I’m rather attached and… I don’t abandon my friends. Ever.”

“I remember when you told me you didn’t have friends.”, he teased.

“Well, back then I had a former mentor and his partner, and I rarely admitted they were my friends. I hated that label. It implied they could be used against me, as my weak spot. Now, after much battering from you, I’ve come to realize how much we need friends. Especially in our line of work. We need people to keep us sane and on an even keel.”

“Come back to Wakanda with me.”

“What?”

Even Steve wasn’t sure where that had come from. Natasha had already tried talking her into it, as had Sam. No luck. She claimed it was the weather and how uncomfortable she would be around the King, since she was afraid her manners were sub-par for hanging out with royalty. Sam had tried convincing her T’Challa was cool and Nat had promised to help her with not making a fool of herself. Steve had stayed out of it, knowing she would never say ‘yes’ to the offers.

“Come back with Natasha and I. If there is something brewing, it’s best we’re all together. That way we can plan and we can fight together, if the need arises.”

He was stretching the truth a bit. They probably were better off with her out in the world, ear to the ground, able to let them know when there was something they needed to worry about. Something she was likely very much aware of herself. However, Steve wanted her to be with them. Where he could keep her close, and keep her safe. Out here, if she got in trouble, she was alone.

Looking closely, he couldn’t read her face. Her eyes looked sad, yet she was making eye contact. She usually looked away when delivering bad news. The grip on his hand had loosened though, making him wonder if she were only formulating her excuse.

“You don’t have to, I mean I know”, she interrupted him.

“Steve.”

He looked back up to her face, finding she had a look on her face as if she were still sorting through her thoughts for the right words. He didn’t like that look.

“I’m more useful to you out here.”

“But you’re alone out here. No one to watch your back. No one to notice if you don’t come back at a usual time.”

She nodded, looking down at their hands.

“Let’s just enjoy our drinks and you can tell me about Wakanda. We can’t sit here too much longer. Nat will worry.”

He couldn’t argue with her. Instead, he launched into a story about a lizard Sam had been trying to get to be his friend and eat bread out of Sam’s hand. She had laughed, enjoying the stories, and telling a couple of her own about silly things she saw people do in her travels.

Before he knew it, Steve saw the clock and realized they had been talking for over an hour. Bronach had noticed as well, rising up from her seat and dropping enough cash on the table to pay for both their drinks and leave a nice tip. He also noticed she hadn’t opened or touched the can of soda. Following her out, Steve stood at the corner with her, a broken street lamp providing scant light.

“Steve, thank you.”

“For what? You’re the one who was bringing me intel.”

She shook her head, a fond smile on her dark lips.

“I needed to talk to a friend, to just be Nock for a little while. I’ve been running around being Bonnie, Brianna, Britney, Bridget, and Bianca for so long, I almost forgot what it felt like to just be Bronach. Or to have a conversation with someone I didn’t have to hide anything from.”

He nodded, completely understanding. He still felt like he had to be Captain Rogers when he was with T’Challa, as if he had to be Cap with Wanda and Sam, and just another faceless man in the crowd when he went outside the borders of Wakanda. Even with Nat, he felt more like Cap than Steve some days, and with Bucky gone, he couldn’t even work on helping his oldest friend to remember who Bucky was.

“Thank you for bringing me the intel about Banner, Thor, Loki, and Ross. Nat will probably be able to make heads and tails of it.”

She chuckled a little and Steve felt the shadows starting to creep in on them. She was already working on her exit. No camera would see them leave. It would look like the clouds had blotted out the moon’s light, and that when they cleared, the people in the street had also gone.

“Well, I better get back to the hotel.”

She nodded.

“Where are you staying?”

She pointed the opposite direction.

“Little B&B. The lady who runs it thinks my husband had his boss cancel his vacation but I couldn’t take my days off back, so I’m vacationing alone and I leave to drive and meet my husband for lunch in the city.”

“Nice cover story. Makes you seem like a sad spouse, not an international woman of mystery.”

She smiled.

“Also explains why I know Canada like a map-maker but I can’t speak a lick of French.”

“That too.”

They smiled, a bit awkward and more than a little nervous and sad. There was a very real possibility they would never see each other again. He could get caught, she could get into trouble without back up, someone could invade the planet again, Hydra could re-emerge. Any one of dozens of scenarios went through Steve’s head.

“Well.”, she said before she let out a sigh and leaned to give Steve a quick hug. He barely had a chance to wrap his arms around her back before she was moving away, her arms dropping like he was on fire. He hated it. It felt too much like she was running away and he was letting her.

“Good luck in Wakanda, and with Ross. Maybe Nat can knock him over the head and straighten him out.”

“Worth a shot.”

She smiled. Steve nodded, then turned and started to walk away, slowly. Then he noticed the shadows were encasing him almost like ice on a windshield. Turning, he found Bronach coming at him quickly. She reached for him, her warm hands on his shoulders as she leaned up a bit and kissed him. She kissed him like they were each marching off to the gallows, not to hotels.

When she broke the kiss, her eyes were closed and she slid back away from Steve, her hands dropping to her sides as she stood tall. Opening her eyes, she offering an embaressed look as she explained, “Just in case we do die, I wanted to make sure to cross one thing off my bucket list.”

“Bucket list?”

She nodded.

“People die young in this business, and I’ve crossed three off my list already. Go to Greece for a vacation without telling Fury where I was going, trying to learn to surf, and learn to ride a motorcycle.”

“And now, kiss a coworker?”

Bronach shook her head.

“Kiss Steve. Also, tell Steve that I… care about him.”

Steve leaned a little closer, kissing her cheek at the last second. Once more, her eyes slid closed and her hand came to rest on his shoulder for a second. Then Steve moved back.

“Come to Wakanda?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I already told you, Steve. And we both know I’m right.”

He nodded, hands in his pockets, eyes glued to his shoes.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

She moved forward, holding his face in her hands. He was forced to look her in the eyes. Eyes he could get lost in.

“Steve, you know I’m right. You’re team needs you there and you need me to be here.”

“I need you to… I need you.”

Her smile was the saddest he’d seen in an age from her.

“When this is over, I’m kidnapping you and we’re going to get lost somewhere. Maybe Ireland. You’ve got second and third cousins there, I’ve got an aunt and uncle. We’ll get lost in Ireland for a month, just Steve and Bronach.”

Steve let out a sigh.

“That’s what you said right before you went on that errand for Fury.”

She leaned, kissing him again.

“I thought we had agreed to just be friends?”, Steve found himself questioning. They had, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember who had suggested it, only that they had agreed. That they had stopped kissing, stopped holding hands, stopped waiting up for each other in the living room of the Tower.

“Then the world fell to pieces and made us re-evaluate. I don’t want us to be just friends again, Steve. Even though it’ll mean having to wait till this is sorted, unless you’ve got someone. It has been a while.”

He shook his head, holding her a little tighter.

“No one can make me forget the shadowy figure that always drew my eyes to the darkest corner of the room.”

She smiled.

“Then I’ll see you in Dublin, when all this is over.”

He grinned.

“I look forward to it.”

He leaned and she leaned, gently meeting in the middle to kiss. A kiss to say ‘goodbye’, ‘I miss you’, ‘Do not die’, ‘please come back’, and ‘I love you’ all in one moment. He let himself hold her close, his fingers tangling in her black hair, her scarf tickling his neck as the wind tossed it about, his heart hammering in his chest, hers meeting it beat for beat.

They broke apart, their hands still working to memorize each other. Neither were in any hurry to leave yet they both knew they could not stay here forever. He was needed in Wakanda, she was needed in Canada.

“Nat is going to come looking for you.”

He nodded.

“Stay safe.”

“Of course, Brooklyn.”

He smiled at her, then leaned to give her forehead a kiss before he turned and walked away. He didn’t look back, knowing he would see only a shadow. Knowing he would not be able to make himself move forward, back to the hotel and to Wakanda, if he did not keep his feet moving forward and his head facing the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It took a while to get back to the hotel, where he found Natasha with several snacks spread out on the two beds, two take-out bags sitting there for Steve, and empty one in the trash for her, and her watching the TV of a house across the street through a pair of binoculars. Steve shook his head. Nat was terribly bored ever since they arrived in the small town.

“How was Nock?”

“Tired, but she had some intel about Banner and Thor.”

“Tell me in the morning. You look beat. Eat and sleep.”

He nodded.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He dug in, the food rapidly disappearing. Nat continued to watch the TV through her binoculars even as Steve changed into a Tshirt and shorts to sleep in and tossed out his carton from dinner. Just as he was about to tuck himself in, Nat finally spoke.

“You should really wear chapstick, Steve.”, she offered as she got up to go change in the little bathroom.

“Pardon?”

Nat shot him a slick smile over her shoulder.

“Else someone might think those swollen lips were from a make-out session and not the wind.”

With that, she ducked into the bathroom and Steve sunk back into the hard mattress. He was too tired to go back and forth with her. He just wanted to get some sleep since they were pulling out early in the morning for a long trip back to Africa. Steve also didn’t want to think about things with Bronach, he just wanted some peace. Looking out the window, he saw the shadows move where a tree swayed in the wind. He smiled.

“Goodnight, B.”, he said under his breath. Then he rolled onto his side, his back to Nat’s bed and the tiny bathroom, and he fell almost instantly to sleep. Tomorrow they could talk, make a plan, and execute it. Tonight, he wanted to be left alone.

Natasha came out of the bathroom a moment later and knew instantly that Steve was sound asleep. She looked at him for a minute. Sometimes she thought he had aged a decade in the last few months. The beard and longer hair looked good on him, though they could not hide his pain. He wasn’t broken, not yet. Just cracked around the edges.

Moving to her bed, Nat got under the covers and sighed. It seemed they were all doomed to disappointed hopes. Well, except Clint. But Clint was special and he deserved the happiness he had on the farm with Laura and the kids. Looking over at Steve though, she couldn’t help but think he deserved that same kind of happiness, although she doubted he would ever find it. Perhaps, if he were extremely lucky, he and Nock could figure it out, the Avengers could come back together, the Accords could disappear, and then Nock could be his lady love and they could live happily ever after. Nat would like that. She would like it very much.

“Goodnight Steve.”, she muttered, then looking skyward she grinned and whispered, “Goodnight Clint, Laura, Bartonlings. Sweet dreams.”

 


End file.
